The Designs of Destiny
by Raegwen
Summary: Ellesmera, a 23-year-old Dunmer raised as a thief, has been thrust into the role of Dragonborn without her knowledge or consent. She must learn to accept her fate in order to defeat Alduin, but can she do so without losing who she is or hurting the ones she loves?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1.

Screams. Screams and a blaze of flickering orange. Heat sears my face and the scent of wood smoke and burning flesh invades my nostrils. Flames shoot into the sky and a roar shakes the ground under my feet as wings beat the air above what was my childhood home. My lungs fill with smoke as I dive into the inferno. I need to find my parents, they must still be alive, I just have t-

" _ELLA!"_

I jolt awake, covered in sweat and gasping for air, my blanket a tangled mess around my legs. I brush hair out of my face and meet the worried, vampiric red eyes of my best friend, Serana.

"Did I wake you?"

She doesn't laugh at my joke, instead pinning me with a hard look. "You _need_ to see someone about these nightmares. I've known you for- what, five years now? - you have them almost every night! You almost rolled into the fire!"

Groaning, I throw off the blanket and stand, rubbing my eyes against the bright dawn light filtering through the trees around our campsite. Just 50 yards away sits the mouth of Wolf Skull Cave, where our bounty resides.

"I'll be fine…" I mutter. Shadowmere greets me with a soft nicker and leans into me as I set to brushing him, ignoring Serana's glare against my back. "I've been fine for 5 years, I'll be fine for another couple of weeks until we make it back to Whiterun."

I sense her behind me, and I know without looking up that she's not going to let the issue go so easily this time. She puts her hand on my arm and gently turns me to face her, looking at me with concern across her sharp features.

"The mage at the Blue Palace- she's much closer- when we get back I'd like you to talk to her," she pleads with me, "It can't hurt."

I snort. Yeah, it could. That woman hates me. I trained with her once about a year ago, and that was one session too many- we just didn't get along. There is no way she would agree to help me, and even if she did, I wouldn't want her anywhere near my head. She'd probably do something to screw me up even more.

"That's not happening, and you know why. Okay?" I raise my gaze to hers.

"You know…" She hesitates, "Vampires don't get nightmares." I freeze. Immediately she starts backtracking, "I'm just putting that out there! Never mind, I know we've discussed that before, I shouldn't have brought it up- I'm sorry!"

I sigh, moving to placate her. "Its fine, I know you mean well. Trust me, I've thought about it, but I just can't... Besides, I really like the sun." I wink at her and can't help but grin slightly before growing more serious. "I swear I'll talk to Farengar after we're done here, but right now the Jarl needs this place cleared out." As if in response, a burst of energy sweeps across our camp. Serana spins to face the cave and summons her magic as I dive across the fire for my bow- nocking an arrow and smoothly bringing it up towards the opening in one move.

We sit like that with bated breath, muscles taut, but nothing tries to kill us. After a minute we slowly relax, but the magic in the air is so palpable you could cut it with a butter knife.

I glance towards Serana, "Suppose it's time to take care of a pest problem?"

She laughs, "Yes I suppose it is."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2.

An arrow bounces off my ancient falmer armor – a gift from Serana after I aided her escape from her murderous father – as my own _thunks_ into its mark between the last draugr's eye sockets.

"Bulls-eye", I mutter to myself, standing from my crouch and motioning the all-clear to my companion lurking behind me. Looking up, I note that the mages don't seem to have moved from their places in the summoning circle on top of the keep. Bright blue light shines from something suspended in the middle of the circle, blue tendrils connecting it to various points around the vast stone chamber. I finger an arrow as I consider the mages. Alas, they're too far away-even for me.

I sigh and climb down from where I stand on the overhang above the courtyard of the keep and sprint across the square, rocky yard, Serana close behind. Pulling out my sword, I can't help but admire the impeccable balance once again. This sword has saved my life more times than I can count just in the short time I've owned it- with a dragon bone blade sharpened to a deadly point and a hand-and-a-half hilt, it suits me perfectly. I got it just a week or so ago from an old crone whose cellar I cleared of skeevers. I doubt she knew its worth, but I wasn't going to argue.

I run up the stairs on the side of the tower, skidding to a halt as three mages appear at the top. Before I have time to consider my next move, ice spikes fly a hairsbreadth from my ear, impaling two of the mages and throwing them backwards. I whirl to look at Serana.

"Oops! Sorry!" She grins at me, not looking all that sorry. Laughing, I turn back to the task at hand. The remaining mage hasn't run screaming in fright unfortunately, instead choosing the glare malevolently and ready his spell.

"You'll die for that!" He roars, throwing a fire ball towards my head. Well that just won't do, I happen to like my hair.

I dodge it easily and leap at him, gutting him in one move and whirling to continue my ascent up the staircase- but even as I move something stops me.

The mage, an elf I see now, is sprawled on the stairs, clutching his abdomen. As we lock eyes I suck in a breath. They're black, black as the deepest night and seeming to glow from within with an evil light- bright even as his life seeps out from between his fingers. I stand frozen, and time slows around me.

He speaks, and though he is nowhere near my face I feel his breath caress my ear as a lover's might- but his words are not that of compassion. Instead, he utters four words that fill me with dread and shake me to my very core.

"You are the Dragonborn."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3.

Two days later I perch on a stool staring into the fire, the sounds of the Winking Skeever fading around me as I recall those eyes and their ominous message for the millionth time. I haven't yet told Serana about what happened. I can't, not until I understand it myself. Those black eyes… I don't know why, but they seemed almost familiar, like I'd seen them on someone before… A memory tugs at me, but proves elusive even as I reach for it. Just as it seems I've almost got it, I feel a hand in my pocket.

My hand flies to my dagger. "Move another inch and I'll cut it off," I growl, turning only to pull up short the moment I see who the would-be thief is.

"Hello, Lass." Brynjolf smiles, brushing his red-brown hair out of his face- a nervous gesture as familiar to me as my own.

"Bryn!" I shove my dagger back into its hilt and tackle him in a bear hug, wrapping my arms around him and burying my face in his neck. He squeezes me tightly, and I can feel him smiling into my hair.

He pulls away and holds me at arm's length, searching my face with concern.

"How are you, lass? Where's Serana- is she okay?" He glances around, "And why, of all places, are you in Solitude?"

"She's fine, off getting us a room. I'm still alive and kicking, obviously, and as to why I'm here…" I shrug. "It's just where my feet took me, and the Jarl gave us a job." I scrutinize him. "I could ask you the same thing, old friend. Is everything alright with the guild?"

He smiles and gestures for me to sit down, joining me on a stool. "Everything is still running smoothly, but we miss you. I miss you." He grabs my hand, gazing at me so intensely I have to look away. "Come home, Ella. Please?"

I gently tug my hand from his grasp as I consider returning to the life I'd left behind just five years ago. After my parents' death when I was seven, my father's best friend Niruin took me in and raised me in the Thieves Guild. He taught me the ways of the archer and thief- as a dark elf I turned out to be very talented at both. I lived a good life… at least until I grew up and my friends began looking me not as a weapon but as a prime candidate for marriage. I quickly grew weary of proposals and gullible victims to my larceny and left the day I passed eighteen years, meeting Serana not long after. I'd left behind people I'd known almost my entire life, and for all my bravado I did miss them.

I look back at him and sigh in defeat. "Okay, Bryn. I'll come back. But I'm not going to sta-" He grabs me in another rib-crushing hug and spins me around, shouting in triumph. Laughing at his theatrics I yell in mock indignation, "Bryn! Put me down this instant or I'll feed you your boots!" He does so, but only to grab a nearby waitress- terrifying the poor girl- to order a round for the entire tavern in my honor.

Not long after, Serana joins us across from me at the table we'd grabbed in a back corner, where Brynjolf had been filling me in on everyone back home.

"So, we're going to Riften? When are we leaving?" She aims the question at me, but Bryn jumps in with an answer.

"Tomorrow morning!" He shouts, waving a bottle of mead around in the air and throwing an arm around me.

"More like the day after," I counter, glancing down at the four bottles already littered around his feet.

He squeezes my shoulder and leans in, the smell of alcohol staining his breath as he whispers loudly. "Come now, lass! We both know I can hold my liquor!" Chuckling, I dig an elbow into his side and shrug him off.

"Bedtime, Bryn. Unless you don't want me to go with you tomorrow…" I trail off, raising an eyebrow threateningly. He attempts to glare at me but doesn't succeed, smiling widely after only a second. He winks, and then goes to leave- only to stop after a few steps. Turning to look at me, he opens his mouth but I speak first. "Bedtime. Alone."

Grinning, he winks again before disappearing upstairs, leaving me alone with my best friend.

"So…" She draws the word out, staring at me with the intensity of thousands of years of wisdom. "How long have you known each other exactly?"

"There is nothing going on between us," I protest, "We're just good friends who've known each other for many, many years." I glance up the stairs, feeling my face heat up. _Talos- why does my face always give me away?_ "What about that Nord I saw you flirting with earlier?" I ask as I hastily wave the waitress over. She's a pretty wood elf, if a little skittish.

"Another round for me please," I say, smiling kindly. It's even more obvious she's nervous about something now that she's closer- her hands can't seem to stop shaking, noticeably jarring the mugs on top of her tray.

"Ah- right away miss!" She scurries off to fetch my order. Upon turning back to Serana, I realize she hasn't fallen for my attempt to change the subject.

"If there's nothing going on, why deny it so passionately? Especially since I have not actually accused you of anything. Interesting…" She smirks at me, smugness written across her face.

Groaning, I fold my arms on the table and bury my face in them. "Please don't say anything to him," I mutter into my bracers.

She stands and stretches. "You know I wouldn't. Now, I'm going to find that 'Nord I was flirting with earlier'. You should probably get some sleep- big day tomorrow!" Laughing to herself she heads off, leaving me with my thoughts.

The waitress brings me my mead, almost spilling it on me as she sets it down, apologizing all the way. I nurse it for a bit, compiling a list of the travel supplies I'll need for the lengthy trip in my head.

I suddenly notice the tavern is much quieter than it was as it empties out, signaling the late hour, and pull myself from my thoughts. Draining the last of my drink and tossing a couple coins on the table I stand to leave, only to feel my stomach rise into my throat and my face feel as though it was on fire.

"What the-" My knees give way and as I fall I reach for something, anything, and latch onto the waitress. "Please… help…" I gargle out, my vision getting dimmer every second. The last thing I feel is my head hitting the floor as I lose my grip on her arm, watching as she laughs.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4.

 _Crack!_

Searing pain rips through my elbow as I'm slammed into the side of the wagon once again. Or, what I assume is a wagon. Coarse material tickles my nose, and I'm stuck in darkness. Rope rubs against my wrists and ankles, my side aching from where I lay on the floor against the wall, jarred with every bump. I try to speak, to call out, but it feels as though my throat is filled with sand.

I've definitely been better.

Testing my bonds proves futile, but I manage to get my hood off by rubbing against the rough floor. As my eyes adjust to the darkness, I can make out the seam of light around the only door. It's daytime, but which day? How long have I been out?

Straining my ears, I can make out the jingle of harnesses and murmuring voices. Just as I'm eyeing a nail sticking out the wood in front of me, the wagon lurches to a stop- _ow_ – and I hear boots. The door creaks open and I squint my eyes against the sudden burst of light, spots dancing across my vision.

"So, this is the Dragonborn. How pathetic." A man laughs, grabbing my ankle and squeezing hard to enough to make me cry out in pain before dragging me out the door. He drops me onto the dusty ground with a hard thump, knocking the wind out of me and giving me what feels like a minor concussion. I'm trying to catch my breath, to think, but before I even have time to wonder again at being called the Dragonborn, he kicks me in the stomach. I swear I feel something crack, leaving me gasping into the dirt.

He cackles again and crouches next to me. Grabbing my chin with rough fingers he forces me to look at him. His face is grizzled, pitted with scars, but what shocks me is the gaping eye socket- a stark contrast to the other, acid green eye fixed on me.

Smiling at my obvious surprise – he's also missing several teeth – he leans in close to my ear. "Half the realm is looking for you, and you made it so easy for me. Just had to wait for your boyfriend to leave and then we had you…" He snickers. "He's a very deep sleeper when he's drunk." My vision goes red with rage, and I spit at him.

He chuckles and wipes his face. "Is that all you've got? And here I thought I'd be facing the fearsome Dovahkiin." He stands and shrugs. "Oh well, you'll still fetch me a nice price."

A boot towards my head, and then nothing.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5.

" _Uugghh…"_ I groan, my skull throbbing. I reach up to feel the nub on the back of my head and realize I've been untied. My chest hurts, but it doesn't feel like any ribs are broken. Moist air caresses my face and something drips nearby as I take stock of my surroundings with growing apprehension. Iron bars stretch across a small opening barely taller than me and not much wider. Straw litters the floor, which slopes towards the back corner that smells… not pleasant. My boots and bracers are gone, as well as my leather jerkin. But the fools didn't bother checking my hair.

I can't help but grin when the lock softly clicks open. What kind of thief would I be if I didn't keep a lockpick hidden on me? The door creaks loudly open and I curse in my head, but nobody comes running down the hall.

To my right is a dead end, which makes my choice easy. I creep down the hall to the left, jumping at every little sound, but it doesn't take me long to reach the main room. The second I look around the corner, I realize where I am. Just months ago, I'd cleared this place of bandits for Jarl Balgruuf – I'm in Fort Greymoor. I suddenly wish I'd paid more attention to politics, as I have no idea who holds it now.

A sudden crash gives me my answer- an iron helmet comes bouncing down the stairs followed by a page boy in Imperial livery scrambling to catch it.

 _"BOY! THAT COMES OUT OF YOUR WAGES!"_ A shout booms down the stairs. The boy, looking to be barely teenage, looks on the verge of tears. I keep to the shadows, but a sudden throb of my head makes me inhale sharply and the kid freezes.

Cradling the helmet, he peers into the hallway. "Who's there? I know someone's there!" He takes a step.

 _Why does this always happen to me?_ I wonder, before taking a deep breath and stepping into the light with my hands open towards him to show I'm unarmed. "Relax, kid. I'm not going to hurt you."

He pales and almost drops the helmet, a mop of black hair falling in his face. "You- you're- oh, _Talos!"_ He glances up the stairs and seems to decide something before leaning forward. "If you help me, I'll help you! I know what they want to do to you, and I don't think it's right. And I don't belong here!"

At this point I'm just ready to be gone, before whoever yelled decides to come looking for his helmet. "Fine, what do you want?" I say, trying to disguise my impatience.

He sets the helmet down and pulls a ring of keys off his belt. "I know a way out. But you have to take me with you." He's practically bouncing up and down, how can I deny him? Besides, I can just dump him in Whiterun…

" _Fine._ Stick close to me and try to walk quietly. You know how to use that thing?" I ask, gesturing to the short sword slung on his hip.

"Yes! You're an archer, right? Here!" Before I have a chance to wonder how he knows that, he strides over to a chest in the corner of the room and unlocks it, drawing out-

"My bow!" Grinning widely, I take it from him and sling the quiver he hands me over my shoulder. I almost laugh in joy when he also passes me my sword.

We both jump when the voice booms again. "BOY! HURRY UP!" it yells, followed by the scraping of a chair and footsteps across the floor above us. We're both frozen, listening, but whoever it is doesn't come down the stairs.

I relax a bit and size up the kid. "What's your name, and how do we get out of here?"

He grins, all semblance of the scared boy gone at the prospect of an escape. "You can call me Marc. And there's a drain that opens out onto the river just down there." He gestures towards the hallway across from the one I'd just exited.

I look down at my bare feet. "Know where my armor is?"

"Also down that hallway. Ready?" He looks up at me, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

 _What am I getting myself into?_ I can't help but wonder, before waving him on.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6.

Water splashed around our feet as we sprinted for the woods, now far enough away from the fort that stealth did not matter. Following the stars, we made our way towards Whiterun, stopping only to sleep and cook whatever I shot along the way. Marc proves to be a worthy travel companion, regaling me with the histories of the Nords, something he seems fascinated with. He also tells me of his passion for Dwemer culture.

We're a day's walk from Whiterun when I feel the mood of the forest shift.

Marc seems to sense it too and stops a step behind me. He readies his magic – something else I've learned about him – as I draw my bow and we move forward slowly, staring into the forest on either side of us.

 _SNAP!_

I whirl and let an arrow fly at the bandit stepping out of the trees behind us. He drops with my arrow in his throat just as I hear Marc release firebolts behind me. Another bandit comes running out from behind a tree in front of me, stepping over his dead companion.

"Never should've come here!" He roars, raising his axe to cleave my face in half. I bury an arrow in his armpit, and he joins his friend on the ground. Marc is now at my back and I glance over my shoulder to see him doing quite well, with two bandits of his own in the dirt and lightning flashing towards the last, raising my hair with the static charge. I turn back just in time to see an ice spike impale the bandit leader, who had been about to attempt shish-kebabbing me with his sword, knocking him to his knees. I finish him off with a quick slice of my dagger and look up see none other than Serana striding towards us, cape flapping in the breeze and an enormous smile on her face.

"About time, I've been wondering where you were!" I embrace her, and then remember my new companion. "This is Marc, he's been very helpful." I see the expression on her face. "Be nice!"

She pouts mockingly, "Fine… Pleased to meet you, Marc." She grins, showing her fangs. "Ever met a vampire?"

Marc seems to take it well, if paling slightly. "I have now, ma'am."

Laughing, she turns back to me. "Now, please tell me why you vanished in the middle of the night and disappeared for nearly a week."

"Gladly. But first tell me something," I grab her by the shoulders and she raises an eyebrow, "Where. Is. Bryn."

Her smile fades. "I… I was hoping I'd find him with you. He disappeared at the same time."

A/N: I would love thoughts and comments from y'all! I haven't quite decided what direction I want to take this story in, and would appreciate any and all input!


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